


The Imprisoned Hawke

by Adara_Rose



Series: Thedasian Fairy Tales [4]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, F/M, Fairy Tale Curses, Fairy Tale Retellings, Fairy Tale Style, Family Issues, Fluff, Happy Ending, Implied Sexual Content, Imprisonment, Love at First Sight, Romance, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, happy ever after
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-16 21:56:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8118949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adara_Rose/pseuds/Adara_Rose
Summary: No longer covered in feathers and freed from an unhealthy obsession with raw fish, Fenris of Brecilia sets to find his own happy ever after. By the look of things, it is locked in a very high tower, has unusually long hair and sings very prettily from the top window. The only issue is getting up there...A Thedasian Fairytale.





	1. Anna, let down your hair!

Prince Fenris of Brecilia had wandered aimlessly after bidding his second-littlest brother good-bye. While he was glad to be freed from his curse, and happy to see his brother wed to his one true love, he himself wanted the same happiness. He would like to return home to Brecilia with a woman on his arm, but just for a visit. Then adventuring - he did so love adventuring. She would follow him, yes. Brave, beautiful, wild. He’d really like it if she had blonde hair.

 

He wandered for days, and days turned into weeks, and Fenris managed to find plenty of adventure. He vanquished two demons, slew a dragon, chased out a group of bandits from a village and saved two princesses from different maladies. But still, he was not content. He had been offered to marry both princesses (not at once, obviously) but said no. None of them had been his True Love, and no matter how silly the notion was he simply would not settle for anything less. It did not matter if he had to search for ever, she was out there somewhere and he was going to find her, just like his brother had when he met the human mage he had just married. While Fenris and Dorian did not get along particularly well, Fenris was delighted at Icthlarin’s happiness and having found his true love. But it made his own heart feel even lonelier as he thought of it, because he had not yet found his own.

 

One night, as he felt unusually weary and heartsore, he found himself wandering down a dark road in a forest that seemed older than anything he had ever seen before. Through the trees he saw a small camp fire, and allowed his tired feet to carry him towards it. Surely whoever had lit such a merry little fire was not a dangerous person, but if they were he carried a sword that was almost taller than he was. He was a warrior, and adventurer and a hero, and he could defend himself.

  
As he reached the campfire, he saw an old woman sitting on a log. She bade him to join her, and after only a moment's hesitation he did so. Having been raised to be polite and helpful, he offered her his meager rations and they ate in silence together. After having eaten, they chatted a bit about this and that, about the forest and his adventures. It was odd, but somehow he found himself telling her things he had not planned to tell, such as his loneliness and his dreams of finding his own true love. She patted his hand and told him things would be brighter in the morning, and soon they both slept on each sides of the little fire.

 

When morning rose above the trees, so did Fenris. (No, not above the trees). To his surprise he saw the old woman already awake, pouring water over the dying embers to ensure they would die out.

“You will find your true love soon” she said, not looking at him. “If you want directions, you must first give me a lock of your hair.”

Fenris considered rolling his eyes, for he suspected that whatever she told him wouldn’t help much, but what did he have to lose? He cut off a lock of his pale hair and handed it over to the old woman.

“Look for a bird imprisoned in a stone cage. Its wings are black at first sight, but beneath they shine as bright as gold.” Yep, he had been right. Not exactly helpful. He was just about to ask her what in all of Thedas she meant by that, but before he could even open his mouth she had vanished from his sight as if she had never been there at all.

She must have been an enchantress, he figured as he gathered his belongings. Her words echoed in his mind, making his heart feel light and hopeful. _You will find your true love soon._

He turned in a half-circle, picked a direction at random, and started walking.

 

* * *

 

It was a few days after Fenris had med the old woman and he still had not managed to find his way out of the woods. Luckily, there was plenty of game to be found so he did not starve. It was getting frustrating, however, to not see another person, be they elf or human. He just wanted to talk to someone. Or hear a voice. But there seemed to be no one else in this wide forest between two human lands whose names he had already forgotten. He sighed, twisted his head a few times to release the tense muscles, and looked up to try and determine what time of day it was. That was when he spotted the tower in the distance. It was rather surprising, as towers were not exactly common in forests, but there it was. Moving towards it, he soon found himself in a wide clearing, without a single tree or rock, only fresh green grass. And in the centre, was the tall stone tower. Checking that he had plenty of healing potions and poultices, he decided to investigate. Anything at all could hide in the sole structure; A fierce dragon, an evil enchantress, a monster of some kind, or… a girl? Fenris stopped cold, staring up at the tall window at the top of the tower. If he squinted and angled his head just so, he could just barely make out the shape of a girl sitting on the ledge. She was singing, and the sadness in her voice made something resonate within him. He was overcome with the ridiculous urge to climb up and comfort her.  Luckily, he came to his senses rather quickly before he started scaling the wall, and started looking around for a door.  To his surprise, there was none. The walls were flat stone, and though he ran his hands over it he found not a single crack or nook where he could find leverage for his hands or feet. There was simply no way to enter. But how had the girl gotten up there, then? It was a mystery. And he was determined to solve it.

 

He stood at the foot of the tower, pondering the mystery, when he heard the fall of hooves. Not really thinking about it, he dove back into the forest, hiding behind a tree, waiting. Soon he saw the rider, and to his surprise it turned out to be a middle-aged woman in a fine dress, riding a white steed. She was alone, but there was something about her that spoke of power and intimidation. She got off her horse and approached the tower, stopping once she stood directly beneath the window in which Fenris had spotted the singing girl. Then, she called out:

“Anna, let down your hair!”

There was a moment of silence, then a long, thick braid of silky black hair tumbled down the tower’s side, stopping mere inches of the ground. It gleamed in the sun like silk and ebony, and Fenris was suddenly wildly tempted to bury his face in it and breathe in its scent. Luckily, he managed to keep his wits about him and stayed where he was, opting instead to watch the woman climb it as one would a rope.

Fenris did not know how long he had stood in the forest, waiting for the woman to descend, but eventually he saw the long dark braid tumble down the wall. A few more minutes, and he could see the woman climb down slowly. The evening was late, and the sun had just begun to set, but even Fenris in his eagerness understood that trying to get the girl to let down her hair tonight was not the wisest of decisions. Instead, he promised himself he would return tomorrow, to try to enter the tower. He just wanted to see her, see if she was as lovely as her song. If her face would make his heart beat as erratically as her voice.

“Anna” he whispered as he started moving in the direction the woman had vanished, hoping to find a town or at least a village where he could rent a room and get some decent sleep. He could not stop thinking of the girl in the tower, of the way her dark hair gleamed in the sun, of the way her song had made his heart race.

“Anna, I _will_ find a way to you.”

 

* * *

 

Fenris of Brecilia was a man of his word, there was no doubt about that, but even he could not find a way to climb a tower as smooth as glass. This did not stop him from trying, of course. However, after having almost broken his hip for the third day in a row he decided that gallantry and bravery had failed miserably and he needed a different approach. Since he was not stupid by any means, and had learnt at his father’s knee that nine times out of ten the ends justify the means if you are rich enough, he chose a more stealthy approach. In other words, trick the girl in the tower to let down her hair so he could climb up.

 

Contorting the voice to the best of his ability, he called up to the open window:

“Anna, let down your hair!” To his own ears he sounded like a badly tuned violin, but it was apparently good enough for a thick black braid soon tumbled through the air. The hair shone as the silk of his sisters’ fine gowns, and he could not resist burying his face in it. It smelled slightly dusty, but what was he to expect from a girl with hair more than thirty feet in length? At least it was reasonably clean. Taking a sturdy hold, Fenris began to climb.

 

It was, to be honest, the most awkward thing he had done since that time when he was twelve and his sister Ilona had dared him to climb into fathers’ bedroom and steal his favorite necklace in the middle of the night. Father had had a _visitor_. However, since the visitor was… ahem, entertaining the king at the time, and both men were clearly occupied, Fenris had swiftly pinched the necklace and beat a hasty retreat, his face flaming. It had been worth it to watch Ilona try to explain herself to an irate King Mendanbar in the morning. She’d been made to scrub the kitchen floors for that one. But back to the black-haired girl in the tower.

 

When Fenris’ arms were beginning to cramp and he was seriously reconsidering his choice to bring his heavy broadsword, he finally reached the window’s ledge. With one last mighty heave, he was over and landed in a rather undignified heap. Right in front of someone wearing a green dress and matching slippers. That was all he saw from where he was on the floor.

“Well” a voice said dryly from somewhere above him, “I suppose beggars can’t be choosers. You _are_ here to rescue me, right?”

Fenris crawled to his knees and looked up. And up. And up. She was rather tall. And then he got to her face, and he forgot that breathing is a requirement to most living mammals. Her eyes were enormous and blue, and they sat at just about the right place in a heart-shaped face. She was most awfully beautiful, even with her arms crossed and a look of dubious joy.

“Princess” he breathed, for the crown was a dead give-away, “I have come to rescue thee from thy-” that was all he managed to say as the princess whooped with joy and planted one devil of a kiss smack on his lips. Fenris blinked owlishly as she dragged him to his feet and started brushing off the dust from his leathers.

“Forgive me” he managed, “what did I do?”

“You called me _princess!_ No one had done that since Caelan- well, that’s neither here nor there.” And then she kissed him again. Rather passionately, in fact, and he forgot all about sking who Caelan was in favour of kissing her back with all the passion of a prince who had found his one true love. Which she obviously was, she was just the right height and her eyes were the right shade of blue. The hair was unexpected, but he could work with it. Her arms were around his neck and her body was warm against his, and he was seriously considering trying to get his hands under her skirt when she said, rather breathless,

“You ought to know, I was born in a man’s body.” Fenris blinked at her.

“Huh. I thought my sister was the only one.”

“Your sister?” It was her turn to blink, clearly perplexed.

“Yes, the gods made a mistake and made her a boy.”

“Oh, I see. Just… so you know what you’re getting.” And after that, neither of them did any speaking of value for about an hour.

 

* * *

 

Once Fenris’ mouth had contented itself with the taste of the princess’ skin, he realised he had no idea what her name was.

“So” he said as his fingers traced her spine, “I am Fenris of Brecilia. You are-?”

“Anna of House Hawke, Princess of Kirkwall. Well, prince of Kirkwall where mother is concerned.”

“Your mother?” Anna frowned and he immediately had to kiss it away.  
“She stuck me up here. Batty old… well, bat.”

“Then I shall save you” Fenris said and her smile was like the sun.

“I would like that. But there is the issue of my hair.”

“I rather like your hair.” He replied, and that much was obvious as he had not yet complained about using it as a mattress. Anna rolled her eyes, fond but exasperated.

“It’s magical. Grants wishes, one per person.”

“And that’s why your mother stuck you in this tower?”

“Yes. That and the dresses. When I was little, strangers came from all over the world to ask for me to marry their daughters  so that they’d be able to sell wishes and get rich. Gave father the most dreadful migraines.”

There was a bit more rather delightful kissing, then they -with great reluctance - untangled themselves from each other and started dressing.

“Will you marry me now?” Anna asked, “even though you know that I am a boy.”

“You are _not_ a boy!” Fenris protested, highly indignant. “You are my beautiful princess and we will be married the moment I get you back to your father!” Anna beamed at him and Fenris had to wonder who it was that had bashed him over the head, for there was no other way to explain the dizzy spell.

 

After having finished reeling from the smile, he did something very important. He took the circlet form his own head and rested it against Anna’s soft breasts, and as she gaped in confusion the circlet transformed into an elegant necklace, fitting snugly around her neck. The onyx gleamed against her pale skin.

“This shows my people that you are loved by their prince. It is the only proof we need. But if you want a wedding, you shall have one. The grandest I can give you.”

Anna looked at him in adoration.

“I love you” she said and he knew she meant it. She was, after all, his one true love. They kissed sweetly, confirming that they were together now.

After several moments of very pleasurable kissing, Fenris took a good look around the tower. For the first time, he noticed how small the room was; there was a bed, a dresser, a full-length mirror and a door. Nothing else. It was absolutely dreadful to think of his princess trapped in there, all alone except for the mother who had entrapped her. Wait... a door? He hurried over and opened it - and immediately realised why Anna had not been able to escape on her own. There was a door, alright - but no stairs leading down from it.


	2. Chapter 2

Fenris stood in dumbfounded silence, staring at where the stairs should have been for several moments, until Anna spoke up.

“Don’t ask how the stairs vanished, magic I expect. Mother hired a mage to create the tower, she probably had him remove the stairs, too.” She looked unhappily at the sharp drop that awaited them. Then Fenris remembered something.

“Tell me more about your hair. It grants wishes?”

“Yes, when you kiss it. But it only works when still attached to my head. Father tried to cut some off once, thinking he could sell it and get some gold to the royal coffers, but the strand turned yellow and-” she didn’t get any further as Fenris pulled a strand of glorious black hair to him, kissed it reverently and said;

“I wish there were stairs so that we may safely leave the tower.” And lo and behold, there were a set of stone stairs leading in a spiral all the way down to a door that had appeared on the bottom. Fenris had not wished for a door, but figured it was a gift horse and took Anna’s hand in his. It was soft and warm and her fingers fit the space between his perfectly.

“Let us go” he said, and hand in hand they walked down from the tower and through the door, into the sunlight. The moment the last bit of Anna’s hair was out of the tower it vanished, as if it had never been there. Magical objects tend to do that when they’ve fulfilled the task they were created for. Anna kicked of her slippers and stood barefoot in the grass, laughing and crying.

“Four years” she finally managed, “four years since I felt the grass beneath my feet.” She threw herself in Fenris’ arms, covering his face with kisses.

“Thank you” she breathed between kisses. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Fenris was about to reply, with what he did not know (probably something disgustingly mushy). Unfortunately, before he could prove to her that even though he looked fierce with his leather armor and his scars and white hair, he was really a complete sap, a very unwelcome noise was heard.

A dragon roared over their heads.

 

* * *

 

Anna proved to have quicker reactions than Fenris as she took his hand and started running, pulling him along. They sped across the grass, not daring to look back in case the sight of the dragon they could as of now only hear made them freeze in terror. They sprinted towards the dubious safety of the woods, and soon found themselves under the trees.

 

Anna clung to Fenris, out of breath and wild-eyed with fear. 

“I have read about dragons” she panted, “but I never thought I’d get chased by one!” Fenris said nothing, just held her closer. He might be a rather brave swordsman, but even  _ he _ had never attempted to take on a dragon alone. And besides; he wasn’t alone, he had to protect his lovely princess.

 

They looked anxiously to the skies for several moments, but it seemed the dragon had only wanted to scare them as it was nowhere in sight. Finally, Fenris dared to think that they were safe.

“Let’s get you home” he told his princess and got to bask in another of those wonderful smiles.

“Yes” Anna agreed, “and then we will be married.” They stared besottedly at each other for a few moments before either of them had enough sense to get moving. Still holding hands like the new lovers they were, they started through the woods in the direction Anna insisted led to Kirkwall.

 

After a few hours, Anna suddenly stopped cold with a whimper of pain. Fenris spun around, ready to slaughter whatever it was that had hurt his princess, when he realised that he had lost his sword. Well, he had not as much lost it as forgotten it in Anna’s tower. It had vanished when the tower did. And then he saw what had hurt his princess. The patch of woods they had been walking through was not only full of trees, but brambles. It was the nice sort that grows blackberries in the autumn, but it was still a most wicked enemy of long hair. And Anna’s dark locks were hopelessly entangled. No matter how Anna or Fenris tugged at it or tried to wrangle it free, stuck she stayed.

“Oh, this blasted hair!” Anna yelled in pure frustration as she tried once more to free herself from the thorns, but it was useless. Tears of frustration and hopelessness leaked from her pretty blue eyes and Fenris made another desperate attempt to free her, but without his sword it was useless.

“There is nothing to do” Anna cried, “you must leave me and go! Get help!”

“No!” Fenris yelled as he pulled at the hair once more. “I am not leaving you!” 

Anna sobbed again, helpless and infuriated. Then Fenris thought of something and could have kicked himself for not doing so sooner. He grabbed Anna by the arms and stared into her eyes.

“Anna” he said, a tone of desperation in his voice for night was falling at this point and there was still a dragon around somewhere, “tell me you have never wished upon your hair.” Anna stared at him like he was mad.

“Of course I haven’t! What’d be the point?” Fenris laughed, delirious with joy, and kissed her sweet lips.

“Okay” she said, confused. “What did I do?” 

But Fenris ignored her. He pulled at one of the strands as far as he could and held it in front of Anna’s mouth.

“Kiss it!” He ordered, and saw in her eyes that she understood.

Anna pressed a quick, but reverent kiss to her own hair and cried,

“I wish my hair would be cut!”

No sooner had she uttered these words before a loud  _ snap! _ Was heard through the forest and her hair seemed to be cut off, the impossibly long black strands falling uselessly to the ground, still tangled in the briars. The princess stood shocked, staring at what used to be her hair as it paled to the same colour of ripened wheat. Tresses of the same colour fell over her back, ending just above her waist. 

“M-my hair” she stammered, confused. Fenris laughed in breathless delight as he pressed her to his breast.

“Anna, my Anna, you wished it to be cut - and wished yourself free in the process!” 

Anna laughed too, delirious with joy. 

“When it is cut, it looses its power! There is no longer a reason to hide me away!” They beamed at each other, looking even more like besotted fools than before. Then, still laughing with joy, they started the long walk back to Kirkwall.

 

* * *

 

When Anna and Fenris, who still held hands, entered the throne room the following morning (they had walked for most of the night and were completely exhausted, but happy to have reached their destination) they caused a bit of a stir. The first person to find their senses in the general bedlam was the woman Fenris had seen in the woods about four days previous. He now knew her to be Queen Leandra, Anna’s mother - and her jailor. 

“Our son has been returned to us!” Queen Leandra cried with delight as she rose, arms outstretched towards Anna who immediately shrank back against Fenris, looking for all the world like she just wanted to turn tail and run. Fenris stepped in front of her, protectively, sword in hand. This woman had hurt his Anna enough. One more time and he’d run her through, queen mother or not. 

“No.” King Malcolm’s voice was hard as a stone and brokered no argument. “I have not had my son returned to me.” As he rose from his throne, he was a highly imposing man with his grey hair and beard and fine robes. His eyes were stern and Fenris felt Anna tremble behind him. The queen stopped cold, staring at her husband in wide-eyed confusion, but thankfully remained silent.

The greying man stopped right in front of them, completely ignoring Fenris. Instead, he looked at Anna. 

The silence was deafening for several moments. The court held its collective breaths. 

“I have not had my son returned to me. I never had a third son.” Fenris felt Anna’s tears fall on his soulstone where it hung around her neck, and it was as if she was weeping onto his bared heart. That was it, he was going to  _ kill _ the old bastard.

“I have had…” the king choked out, sounding as if he was on the verge of tears. “My daughter returned… my little girl…” he opened his arms to Anna, who flew into them with a soft cry.

“Father!” 

They hugged each other, both crying. 

“Thank you” the king whispered to Fenris, tears still streaming down his cheeks. “You gave her back to me, my sweet girl, when I thought her dead.” 

“Malcolm!” The queen’s voice was indignant. The King turned to her, eyes flashing.

“I will deal with you later. This is a joyous day.” He raised his voice, addressing his court. “Let the lands of Kirkwall celebrate today! Princess Anna has been returned to us, safe and sound!” The court, although still rather confused, cheered obediently. 

“Malcolm!” The queen’s voice was uncomfortably shrill. “Stop this nonsense!” 

Anna looked like she wanted to argue, which Fenris sensed that she had done many times before, but the King got there first.

“No, wife, you stop this nonsense. Accept the facts; There never was a prince Andrew. He did not exist, except in our heads. Caelan’s twin is a beautiful young woman, her name is Anna, and I love her exactly as she is. If you cannot, then the issue lies with you, not with her. Now retire to your rooms, unless you can find it within you to be happy.”

The queen stared at them for several long moments, then slowly turned and exited the hall. 

The king turned to Anna, who once more was on the verge of tears.

“Do not cry, daughter. She will understand in time. Meanwhile, why don’t you introduce me to your saviour, hm?” Anna smiled as well as she was able.

“Yes, father. This is Fenris, hero of the west and prince of Brecilia.”

Fenris bowed deeply to the King, who smiled at him.

“Oh, stop that. You are a prince, as high and noble as myself. But tell me, and this is very important: do you love my daughter?”

“Yes, your majesty. More than my own life.”

“Well, then. Anna, my dear, do you love him?”

“Yes, father. With my whole heart.”

“Then you shall be married. Can you wait a month? We need to prepare a suitable feast and send out invitations.”

“Fenris?” Anna’s tone was hopeful, and her fingers strayed to her necklace. The onyx sparkled in the morning sun, perfectly set off by her blond hair.

“Of course” Fenris said as he stared adoringly at his bride, not caring if he sounded disgustingly sappy, “anything my princess wants.” Besides, that should give his family ample time to get to Kirkwall. Even Bela, who had decided to take a jaunt across the seas to marry an assassin.

King Malcolm turned to his court to make some sort of announcement, but in all fairness Fenris did not hear a word of it. He was too busy staring into Anna’s brilliant blue eyes.

“So” he murmured, as he pressed both her hands in his own, “What happens now?”

“Now?” She said, grinning, as he pulled her close and kissed her for all the court to see. “Now, we live happily ever after.”

And so they did.


End file.
